'Halloa! stand by, boys!' Look up; see 'em swarming, black like ants, over the waggons.

Inside the laager.
Snatch up rifles! All up! Oxen stampeding, men running, blacks sticking 'em like pigs in the back with their assegais.

Bad job, the whole thing.
Don't care for it, myself.

Very tough 'uns to fight.

If they once break laager." "Then you should never let them get to close quarters," I suggested, catching the general drift of his inarticulate swift pictures.
"You're a square man, you are, Doctor! There you touch the spot.
Never let 'em get at close quarters.